Sleight of Hand
by aiselixir
Summary: Rousseau is a blogger with opinions and an inability to shut up. Let's be real - with these fanfics? That's all it takes to get thrown into an intellectual war between two brands of justice.
1. Chapter 1

**_Sunday, 12:38 a.m._**

 _Hey there, this is Rousseau, back again with another extreme opinion! New readers, I'm glad to have you on board, but remember – this blog is called_ Worldviews of Rousseau. _Those worldviews may not align with yours all the time, but keep it chill and we could get along._

 _Getting on with it, lately, there's been a huge issue up for debate. Three guesses as to what it is._

 _Hm…nope._

 _No._

 _Noooot that either. You're horrible at guessing, so I'll spare you._

 _It's one word. One four-letter, two-syllable word._

 _Kira._

 _Kira is something of a polarizing subject of this day and age. You know what I'm talking about. There are the supporters, who laud Kira as some sort of savior ("He is bringing an end to crime, oh how he deserves praise!"), and there are the protesters, who believe that Kira is some sort of sick mistake ("He is a monster, a murderer! Who knows who'll be next?")_

 _There are the fence-straddlers, who either agree with Kira but fear their anti-Kira peers, or who aren't fond of Kira but are terrified of retribution from the supporters, and Kira himself._

 _The fence-straddlers are complete and utter pansies._

 _Now you may notice my use of the word 'protesters' for those who dislike and speak against Kira. I could have used opponent, but that would imply that they pose a threat toward Kira._

 _They don't._

 _I don't think an angry mob stands a chance against cardiac arrest. You may think otherwise, and all I have to say is that you're entitled to your stupid opinion. The mystery of a self-proclaimed executioner is far too powerful for you in all your frail indignance._

 _Keep in mind that I'm not pro-Kira. I'm not a fence-straddler either, and if you've been following me for a while, you should know that. I'm loud. I have an opinion on everything and it will be definite and easy to argue with._

 _Three guesses as to whose side I'm on. Keep them to yourself, for now – I'm talking._

 _Alright._

 _The biggest weapon we (everyone who won't be inviting Kira to lunch anytime soon) have against this Grim Reaper of a man is another man._

 _Well, I assume, like many others, that it's a man. We only have a capital letter and one scrambled message to work with._

 _L is a genius. I (despite my inability to shut up) am not a genius. Let's tally up everything L has done versus everything I have done in relation to the Kira chapter of history._

 _Ahem._

 _In one five-minute broadcast, L established that Kira is a newbie in the killing game (first victim a petty criminal from Shinjuku), is based in the Kanto region of Japan, can and will kill if his worldview is threatened…_

 _It's been quite a while since then. So what have I managed to figure out?_

 _Nothing. Nothing concrete._

 _But I've been keeping an eye on these things, and the most solid things I can come up with have to do with Kira as a person._

 _The first and most brief thing is that Kira is definitely a male. What man wouldn't decide to try to fix society's problem without checking to see what society needs?_

 _Second._

 _Kira is an utter teenager. An attention-seeking, self-righteous, idealistic teenager who believes that he knows what's best for the world. He's a kid hijacking a plane and he's going to completely Icarus us all. Maybe he_ is _an actual teenager. I'm counting on that, actually – he hasn't become jaded and beyond fantasies yet. Well, it won't make a difference whether he is or not. He is wrong just the same._

 _Pro-Kiras, correct me if I'm wrong (not that I'll listen to you silly people), but there are some very Hitler-esque vibes emanating from Kira, aren't there? This new Hitler is even more overtly tyrannical and evil._

 _His name is_ Killer _. No warning bells go off in your head at the name? None? None at all?_

 _Maybe if his stage name was Muffinmassacre or Johnny Sparkles (Kira-kira, anyone?), it would be a little harder to say anything about it._

 _But Killer? Really?_

 _No._

 _He believes he is dispensing justice, no doubt about that. Perhaps he should take a closer look at his name. Humans don't work like that. You can't just_ erase _criminals. We sin and we will continue to sin, and using the threat of death like that will only work for so long. People will start pushing the boundaries, burning every bridge they can._

 _You are not ending criminals, Kira._

 _You're immunizing them to fear._

 _Think about that._

… _We all know he won't think about it. If he was ever open to considering other viewpoints he wouldn't have begun killing in the first place._

 _While we're on this bizarre topic, I guess I'm standing by my theory that Kira is a kid. A teenager. Late teens, maybe, enough for the formal operational stage to have been reached developmentally, enough for morals, but not nuanced enough for him to be a full-fledged, hardened adult – criminals are bad, and bad things shouldn't be here. If criminals were gone, the world would be happy. Pretty cut and dry, when it comes down to it. 16 to 19 years of age. Smart enough to have not been caught yet (especially with L and co. working his case), but flawed all the same. A baby._

 _It won't be long before L catches him, will it? The world needs more punch-clock heroes like him. I am as team L as you can get – maybe I'll custom design a t-shirt, paint a target on my back. Ha-ha._

 _It's late. I know you'll have plenty of questions and comments and flames and whatnot, but I don't care right now. I'm sleepy._

 _(tl;dr_

 _Well, dears, Quinn Rousseau is officially anti-Kira. Having thought about it, Kira is (while powerful) not infallible. He's probably a hormonal teen in way over his head, and L's gonna catch him. You go, L, and stay safe. I'm rooting for you, big guy.)_

 _Take care, beautiful disasters. I'm out of here._

 _Q. Rousseau_


	2. Chapter 2

_I'm temperamental and highly biased, and my hobby is deconstruction. My name's Quinn Rousseau; welcome to my pad._

That was what I put on my 'about me' section on the blog. But for the sake of brevity I sacrificed some pretty important information in the intro.

For example, the fact that I got two hours of sleep per year (lie: 3.9 a night on average) and my veins were filled with caffeine (lie: roughly 4 caffeinated beverages per day).

Also? I got sick. Really often.

The head cold wasn't much, to be honest. I'd battled through strep for a week and still come out on top without a word (ignoring how that was just because I couldn't talk). But though it wasn't much, it was still really inconvenient. I had already gone through three packs of tissues already and my painkillers were running dangerously low. I was going to kill someone before the day was out.

Well.

I _would_ have killed someone, but the To-Oh library was surprisingly quiet. When I'd gotten the job as librarian I had taken it with perfect, quiet days in mind (so I could work on my blogging, see), only to find that those perfect, quiet days weren't as quick to come by as I thought.

Today was ideal.

Exams had had everyone scrambling for textbooks, for resources, for _something_ to read in the hopes of getting smarter. Now it seemed the panic was wearing down. I'd only had a handful of kids in. (Kids, I said, like I was any more mature than they were.)

I grimaced and closed my eyes tightly. Jeez, everything was so bright. Pulling that all-nighter with a fever creeping up on me was _not_ a smart thing to do last night.

"Long weekend?" I was asked out of the blue, and I jerked up at the noise with a wince, hefting a nearby copy of Tolstoy in my hand.

Thank whatever goodness is left in the world my reflexes were even more garbage than usual. I would have thwacked Light Yagami square in the forehead with _War and Peace._ Not a good way to celebrate the beginning of the week.

Letting out a huge sigh, I lowered the book carefully. I didn't miss the amused half-smile on his handsome face. (Right, right. That invisible rule that staff should not think the students are attractive in any way, even if they look like Covergirls.)

"You scared me, Yagami," I muttered, cracking a grin when really it felt like I was cracking my skull open. _Ouch._ "I'm not firing on all four cylinders right now. Have some mercy, will you?"

There was that laugh of his, carefully tailored to melt the hearts of girls. I'd always been strangely proud of Light in the time I'd known him. He was brilliant and a potential heartbreaker with a sense of humor. Anyone would kill to have him as a brother.

Shaking my head with a weak replica of his charming laugh, I leaned back in my chair. Light, Light… seeing him made something nag at the back of my mind. I'd been so caught up with my Kira-is-lame rant last night that I was having a hard time focusing on anything else. Something I needed to give him…

Oh.

"Ah, Light, before I forget for the fiftieth time…"

Those sharp and warm brown eyes curiously tracked my movements, asking a question that I answered by sliding a thick, old hardcopy across my desk.

 _Macabre Creatures of Japanese Lore_ , the book declared itself in swirling letters.

"You were showing an interest in Japanese mythology last week, weren't you? Something about reapers and soul-snatchers, things like that?"

The surprise lit up (ha-ha) his face and his lips formed a soft _o_.

"I didn't think you'd even take notice," he admitted, laughing sheepishly. "Yeah, it's kind of a… personal project, I guess you would say. Mythology is truly fascinating."

"That it is, Light-o Yagami, that it is," I replied maybe a little too enthusiastically. I didn't really have the _right_ to that enthusiasm – my own mythology kick had lasted for two weeks. Not that that stopped me from buying up every cool looking book on lore I could get my hands on.

"This is a personal copy, but I trust you with it," I offered, sliding it closer. He picked up the book with nimble fingers and flipped it open deftly, careful not to touch the paper too much. More points for Yagami – not everyone knew how to handle an older book.

His eyes flitted across the entry he'd landed on, lighting up ( _ha-ha)_ in what I like to call 'nerd's euphoria.'

"Really? You didn't…" _Have to_ , he was probably going to say, but he trailed off as he turned the page. "You didn't have to do this for me."

Man, what a cutie.

Despite the feeling of snot and achiness building up again in my head, I smiled yet again. This kid. This one was easily the best at To-Oh.

I leaned forward a little to catch a glimpse of the page that had him so transfixed.

"Shinigami, huh?" His eyes flitted to me and down again. "Japanese grim reapers. I haven't read about _those_ in a while. They make good metaphors for Kira, don't they? I might write a novel."

That grabbed Light's attention. He'd been politely listening, but his head snapped up at the word _Kira._ Oh, this boy had his stand mapped out. It did this blogger proud.

"I guess they do," he agreed. "Gods of death… they're viewed as either evil or necessary parts of life, sort of like Kira himself."

 _Oh,_ that face of his. I call that the 'I'd like you to participate in this survey' face.

"What's your opinion on Kira?"

There it was. Now, I could have given him my carefully crafted answer, maybe pointed him to my blog. I could have used his input on my narration.

But if it hasn't been made obvious yet, I have the softest spot in the world for Light Yagami, and my affection for the academic ace grew a little more every time he shared his own, untarnished opinion with me.

This never happened with anyone else. I had once argued bitterly for thirty minutes with my eight year old nephew over who was the more practical fighter, Falco or Meta Knight. (It's Falco.)

But Light was on a different level altogether, and so I laughed fondly (wanted to sneeze, wanted to sneeze so bad) and waved him on verbally.

"I was actually going to ask you _half_ a second before you did. You've always got everything so thought out. What is Kira, Light?"

"I think Kira could be just what the world needs."

The conviction in his eyes was what truly piqued my interest. I didn't tune him out like I did with most Kira supporters.

"What d'you mean by that?"

"Look at everything," he reasoned, gesturing vaguely as if he could encompass mankind's suffering with a sweep of the arm. With that focused, faraway look in his eyes, he probably could. "Everywhere you turn, there are criminals ruining lives and killing the innocent. The justice system is laughably flawed – murderers and thieves walk while blameless people are thrown in prison. Everything is choked by red tape and greed. L may believe in his own brand of justice, and I acknowledge that. But Kira is actively working to bring justice to the masses and make sure criminals can never hurt them again." The almost calculating tilt of his face morphed into a wistful fondness. "Not to mention, it would make my dad's job easier – a lot easier – if Kira rid the world of criminals."

I am loud. I have my opinions and _hoo boy,_ do they stick around.

But that? That was true belief that Kira was a good thing. I could say I wasn't moved at all.

Lie.

Light regarded me with patience, waiting for my response. Right – I'd forgotten.

I raised a hand to cover the yawn building in my mouth and leaned forward a bit more, studying him intently.

"Light Yagami," I said, "I was going to tell you about how I thought Kira was one massive gamble, and how this whole thing was risky to me. One person judging millions – it raises eyebrows, right? I could have told you that I think L has the better idea of justice. Rules have to be followed, you know?"

I could have ignored the almost cold glint in his eyes as he studied me, waiting. But I saw it, and I almost _almost_ suppressed a shiver. He probably killed in speech and debate.

"But," I finished, "after how you explained things I can't help but think that maybe Kira isn't such a wild card after all. Maybe humanity should give it a try and behave itself."

The glint was slowly becoming warmer. People like to be agreed with and so did Light; I understood.

For a moment, I looked Light straight in the eyes, noting their emotional depth.

I grinned.

"Light Yagami, I can only hope Kira is as good a cookie as you."

And the tension I hadn't noticed was broken as he chuckled, rubbing his neck humbly in an ' _oh, you'_ manner.

I always hated to see that kid off, but he had a life and I had a job and right now I had a splitting migraine.

"Sorry, Light-o," I mumbled apologetically, "I'm going to go medicate myself and lay down a bit. I've been through it today."

His reply had been, as expected, graceful.

Brimming with concern that I'd brushed off, he eventually asked, "Should I leave the closed sign on the door?"

My playful "You _saint_ ," was all the answer he needed before he was on his way.

"Oh, Light?" I called.

He poked his head back out the door.

"Enjoy the book, alright? Take care, dear."

"I'll be sure to," he replied, and favored me with another smile. Then he was off. Like a bird, a genius bird.

I was tired.

As I made my way to the back, I shook my head and grinned wryly.

It sure made me feel a little bad that I lied about giving on my opinion – to _Yagami_ , no less. But when someone believes that much and shares that belief, you indulge them.

And I did. Even if two-thirds of my response to his analysis were purely for courtesy and I still thought Kira a moron, I still respected Light more than he'd ever know.

I popped a few pain pills, laid down, and was out.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Believe me when I say this is probably rushed. I had too many ideas and too little parameters, so we'll see how it goes, haha! Thanks for sticking with me all the way to the third chapter, heh.**

* * *

 _It's Rousseau, back again. Today's entry is going to be a bit shorter than usual – I know you enjoy hearing me shove my opinions down your throat, but I do have a life._

 _To absolutely no one's shock, in the time since I officially declared myself anti-Kira, I received over a dozen death threats._

 _Cute. Very, very cute._

 _It's Quinn Maddox Rousseau – two n's, two d's, two s's, for those of you with spelling troubles. The profile picture's somewhat low quality, but you should be able to work with it._

 _Go on, Kira-babies. Get your savior to kill me for saying such_ terrible _things. Kira is going to be caught eventually, and not everyone supports him._

 _That's real life for you. Get over it._

 _Kira's 'execution' count has risen well into the thousands and I've never been so morbidly fascinated by one man's murderous depravity._

 _That's right – he's working alone. His agenda and targets have been so in sync, it can only be the work of a lone genius. Kira has followers, but as of now he's working by himself._

 _Maybe a decade from now – hmm, though I'm going for six years, like WWII – it'll be revealed that I was way off, that Kira was some middle aged balding man with an average IQ and five team-members who all worked in a convenience store and simply read far too much shonen manga._

 _By then I'll have gotten over the potential embarrassment from being wrong and I'll be able to laugh with the rest of you. Ha, Quinn, you had such high hopes for what Kira was._

 _And I suppose I do. I_ want _Kira to be perfect protagonist material – it will make it all the more dramatic when he falls. To him, it will look as if the villain won, and if that's not a story for the ages, I don't know what is._

 _Kira, Kira, so many theories on Kira._

 _Kira is lame. I want to talk about L, but what do we know about L? A reclusive, enigmatic detective who can be found rising to legend if you look through recent history hard enough. I did. L solves the unsolvable. He took the investigation world by storm, solving the most impossible cases like an adult would predict the end to a hackneyed child's tale. It was the jealous wife with the mood swings, it was not a gunshot but a car backfiring to cover the stabbing, it was because of the stillborn child that the father never returned, it was this who did this in this room with this weapon… I'm paraphrasing the cases, understand, but L is brilliant._

 _Forget anything you may have heard in passing, the rumors that he is rivalled by less shadowy detectives Coil and Denueve. Coil and Denueve are_ dirt _compared to L, and you'd do well to remember that._

 _If I picture Kira as the Raoul, so to speak, L has to be the Phantom. Kira is the Moriarty to L's Sherlock. It's Eponymous Clent against Linden Kohlrabi. The Maquis circling Andre-Louis, both swords raised._

 _Have you figured out who is who? Have you even familiarized yourself with half these characters? That's your homework, beautiful._

 _Now, let's move on a bit. No, inquisitive readers wondering if I'm going to rant about the live action adaptation of that one anime._

 _This Kira case is something that truly grips me. I'm going to be stuck on that for a while now._

 _There was one reader who (very sassily) implied that maybe I should be leading the task force against Kira if I'm going to be such a sleuth about it. (The comment read a little like this: stop pretending you know jack about this case, it's embarrassing.)_

 _And to reply to said reader's sass with candor… Well, if I were ever given the opportunity to work the Kira case, I would take it hands down. I'll see if maybe some miracle happens and I get asked by, hm, L himself? (Ha. Ha-ha.)_

 _That said, maybe instead of taking potshots at my theories, you should work on developing your wit and creativity, guy234. Your username is abysmal. Have a good night._

 _(tl;dr_

 _((Come on though, I didn't even hit 700 words this time.))_

 _Those catty Kira supporters and salt machines need to shove off. I'm too busy theorizing and speculating on the true natures of L and Kira to waste my time on them.)_

 _I'm off then, beautifuls._

 _Q. Rousseau_

* * *

Earlier I had published that exact blog post. The response my Kira tangents got varied from 'yeah, yeah, you know what you're going on about' to 'go into cardiac arrest right now.' It was to be expected. It was a polarizing subject and my opinion was stark and easy to argue with. I came across like a jerk in everything I wrote, true. That was who I let myself be on the Internet. My persona, I guess. It wasn't unheard of, and I never did think anything of it.

Half an hour after finalizing and posting the latest rant, I found myself scrolling through pages and pages of memes and weird fact sites. That was what a librarian did away from prying eyes, after all. I would know, as a full-fledged librarian of not even two years.

I was getting there.

Fingering the half-finished iced coffee in my left hand, I sighed and rubbed my temples. It was going to be one of _those_ evenings, wasn't it? The kind where I _knew_ I had things that could use some doing (for example, cooking dinner or folding some laundry), but despite that there was _still_ nothing to do. I set to tapping aimlessly in an empty word document, watching the screen fill up with keymash that looked almost Welsh in nature.

I could sift through storage, find some more mythology books for Light.

But that could wait.

I could set to laminating some new library rules to put up, spruce up the bookshelves a little.

An ultimately pointless endeavor. Those nice laminated sheets never lasted no matter how prestigious the school.

I could try to get into my five year old Fanfiction account that I only ever used for an experimental Zelink oneshot.

But… some chapters of my life were not ever meant to be looked back on. My grammar and spelling skills came _much_ later than that awful oneshot.

And so I exhausted every possible idea to get rid of the crippling boredom.

I sat there at my desk and swirled my watered down coffee in my hands. I bounced my knee. I craned my neck to try to look out my window only to remember that I had bought some new thick curtains.

I laughed inwardly at myself when the email notification on my screen made me jerk to attention. How bored do you have to be to check your _email_ of all things?

I had no friends. I only got work-related emails anymore.

 _That_ was how bored I was.

I opened a new tab and I checked my email, because I was desperate.

An hour after my computer pinged I would be thinking something like this: _never_ had I been so glad for desperate boredom.

But it wasn't an hour after. I scrolled to the new message, fully prepared to skim over the staff announcement that was surely there waiting for me.

Instead I got a blank email. No subject, no date, no sender. Just a new message filled with nothingness, sitting pretty at the top of my inbox.

So did I open it? _Of course_ I opened it.

* * *

 _Your interest in the Kira case has been noted. Despite the unorthodox reasoning and presentation behind your theories, as well as several mistakes, your accuracy rating so far adds up to a solid 76%._

 _However, it's clear that your theories will inevitably become too accurate for Kira to ignore. It is possible that if you continue publicizing your reasoning and findings, your life will be in danger._

* * *

If there was one thing I wanted the world to note, it was that as much as I turned to extreme viewpoints and held fast to them, I was not as no-nonsense about Kira as some people seemed to think.

I certainly didn't expect to be accurate in 76% of what I was saying – though a 50% wouldn't have shocked me.

But throw all of that aside in favor of the bigger picture.

 _I had been anonymously contacted because of my too-accurate Kira ravings._

No, no, go bigger.

 _I had been anonymously warned away from publically sleuthing_.

The three days I had spent logged into Fanfiction was enough for me to realize that this was unrealistically fantastical. And with that train of thought came the inspiration for my next action.

I decided to reply.

Keep in mind that it was an email completely blank except for text. I had been contacted through my IP address, no doubt, but there was no way I could find a way to respond.

Well. Not conventionally.

This person – and dear lord, did I have a good guess as to who it was – followed my blog, the newer posts, at least. They were smart enough, or had the resources (or both, most likely both), to get an untraceable message to me. They knew how close was too close in this guessing game.

They were surely smart enough to understand a cipher.

Pulling up my blog again, I set to work on a new entry. I'm sure it would have been a treat for the dear readers (oh, ha, I know I'm irritating). But this message was for one and one alone.

With a set jaw and some freshly cracked knuckles, it only took several web searches and forty minutes to get my message exactly how I wanted it.

I double checked, patted myself on the back, and hit publish.

I counted to sixty, deleted the post, and settled in for the wait.

My wait took only two badly sung pop songs plus change – it seemed my friend was waiting for the action. My notifications pinged again and another blank message awaited me.

* * *

 _It's clear you have very little experience in encryption. You don't actually think a reverse numeral Caesar cipher will get past Kira?_

 _Whatever your reasons for the childish cipher, your message was received. It's no surprise that you would continue blogging even after the warning, though the implication that that was your ultimatum was clear. You are interested in setting up a meeting with a complete stranger, though for all you know you could be conversing with Kira himself._

* * *

The message ended there, much to my disappointment. I'd expected an actual yes or no, though I guess that was a little stupid of me to think.

I was about to sigh and try to come up with a more convoluted code when my inbox number went up one again.

This message had one line in it. One line that had me grinning.

What an email that was. I guessed my friend was fond of strawberries.

Like a burnout phone. Smart, wasn't it? Very smart.

Eagerly (maybe a bit too much) I sent a message to that email. It only contained two sentences, and there was nothing I liked better than brevity and wham lines. I was pretty sure I'd incorporated both.

* * *

 _You're about as far from Kira as possible. I just so happen to know an out of the way café you may like; I have so much I'd like to share with you, L._

* * *

I hit send. And I dove from my chair and scrambled to collect all my notes.


End file.
